Ancient Tales of a Kingdom not Unlike One You Know

Satire

Thus it was that the list of Gambrach’s would-be councillors arrived at senatii for approval in rubberstampia. The citizens of Jirriah had waited with bated breath and acute apprehension for the list that Gambrach had held to his chest for so long. Or perhaps it was Caballee and Caballum, the legendary Deux Cabales, thorns in Lady Yeeshah’s flesh, that had withheld it. It was hard to tell.

But when the names were revealed, from the plains of Social Mediana to Whatsappia to the bars and taverns across the kingdom, the people saw that Gambrach’s council would once again be fuelled by the spirit of St. Mediocrates, patron saint of Jirrian politickers.

Captain Monoraillius Incompletus of Rivissinia was returned, as were former King Flasholas of Ekonnos, Ser Bongo Naya the erstwhile councillor for writing materials, Hadi Potter the councillor for winged chariots and conceptualiser of Hot Air – the official name of Jirriah’s royal fleet and Gigex of Keejah, the councillor for slavery, amongst others.

There were new councillors put forward as well. People like Kree Amour, who had served as Gambrach’s silken vuvuzela in electoralis and former King Ogbenyssius the Oponimous, of the kingdom of Oshunlonica.

The laws of the land required the senateens to push each nominee through the mystical Screen of Ratty Fye, the great architect. Ratty Fye had designed the Screen so that if the capacity in which the councillor would serve was known, the screen would glow green if the councillor was suited or red if they were not.

However, the Kings of Jirriah liked to keep things as secret as possible, so that detractors would not know their intentions. Thus, the senateens never had any idea of the role for which they were screening the nominees and very few were pushed through the Screen of Ratty Fye. More often than not, the senateens told them to simply bow to the Screen and go, so that all would still be done seemingly in the name of Ratty Fye.

The senateens were given to much vainglorious ceremony however and rather than line up all the councillors to bow to Ratty Fye in one go, they were summoned one after the other to either bow perfunctorily or to answer questions of absolutely no consequence.

Sometimes, a senateen would even stand up to say something of even less consequence. One senateen from Damawakanda, named Bomi Nayshun (also known to a smaller, more intimate circle as La Pugilista Erotica) declared his conviction that Ogbenyssius would be a wonderful councillor. La Pugilista Erotica was assured of this because Ogbenyssius had given him money in the past.

Eventually, senatii saw the final nominee and Ser Naw Wal the Warden announced, “This is a great assemblage of councillors King Gambrach has put together. If you agree with me, I shall send a raven to let his majesty know that we have come to the end of the masquerade. Rubberstampia in excelsis?”

“RUBBERSTAMPIA IN EXCELSIS!!!” the other senateens cried.

Meanwhile, word came unto the Social Medianites and the Digital Perusites that a super elite squad of the Royal Constabulary suffered casualties during a thwarting of their top secret mission by the Royal Legionnaires. Wherefore in unprecedented scenes, the Constabulary came into Twilistia demanding a tagging of hashes for its slain officers.

Before the Twillistians could respond, word reached them that the Detaketorial Securitisation Squadron had arrested Worh Reh, leader of the Kalahari Newsbearers and mushroom contender against Gambrach and Arty Cool in Electoralis. “Why has the Detaketorial Squadron taken Worh Reh away?” the people asked.

Gar Bar, Chief Scribe of Gambrach responded, “Worh Reh has been calling for a revolution of the people against Gambrach, even though they love their King so tremendously. We all know that revolution means a violent overthrow of the King and we cannot allow that.”

“But he is not with any co-arrested,” the people protested, “was he going to revolt on his own?”

“He was calling for mutiny, saying he was sick of the glorious reign of Gambrach,” replied Gar Bar, side-stepping the question.

“Okay, but what about the weapons you need for a revolution? Did you find any on him?”

“No, but, surely you do not expect a King of Gambrach’s haute sophistication to actually wait until he has co-conspirators and weapons before stopping him, do you? How smart would that be?”

“So he hasn’t really done anything wrong, then?”

“Not yet! BUT HE WAS GOING TO! This is next level preservation of law and order.”

“WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAG THE HASHES AGAINST THE LEGIONNAIRES FOR KILLING OUR GALANT CONSTABLES???” the Constabulary demanded, growing impatient with the exchange on Worh Reh.

The noise was heard in Bedrock Palace in Boo Jar and FemCallamitus asked the King what he was going to do about it.

“I am going to board my winged chariot…” began Gambrach.

“…yes, my sweet, fragrant King… Your Highness will fly to Wohbay to visit the site of the clash?”

“Of course not, Callamitus. I am headed to Dah Ourah for the feast of ram, so that Nah Wal, Jaja-Beer Miller and the Apicurean horde can come and pay homage to me there. Peace out!” And yea, did Gambrach head to his country home in the idyllic hamlet of Dah Ourah.

Lo, upon his arrival, he was greeted by all the Apicurean kings of Jirriah, bearing all manner of fruit and livestock as a farming sacrifice unto Gambrach. Yea, the soul of Gambrach was well delighted by the obeisance of the Apicureans and he spake unto them.

“King and nobles of Apicuria, thanks for honouring me with this food from that the soils of Jirriah have provided. See as we have achieved sufficiency of food, notwithstanding the poverty of multiple dimensions in which our people are reported to wallow. Wherefore I have commanded Mefilius, the Warden of the Iron Bank of Boo Jar, to retreat once more into his room of independent thinking and independently conclude to deny the supply of our precious Trumpetistani shekels to they that would spend it on bringing food from other shores into this land, which is vastly inferior at any rate. Welcome to the new age of glorious leguminae sufficiento!”

And the people saw it and could not believe what they beheld. Just then, news reached the people that the Ipobusinians had ambushed Ser Equerry Mah-Doo in Umlautistan. They saw it and were incensed and there was no gaddem chill in all the land.

Nothing is as constant in the Kingdom of Jirria as the realignment of stars in political and stratospheric firmaments in the months before electoralis. Indeed, it was known unto the seafarers of the global world that Jirrian waters were to be avoided in those months, as relying on what they thought to be True North, which in fact had been True North only a few months before, had run many sailors aground.

In the realignment prior to the electoralis that heralded the second quadrannium of King Gambrach, Abushola, the erstwhile Warden of Senatii had defecated with glorious stink from House Apicuria to House Padipalia. Gah Rah, the Warden of Lower Senatii had also thus defecated. In fact, the defecations numbered over 60 and included notables like senateen Dinobetes Mellitus of Kogitamia. In a public ceremony, they all emptied their bowels over the Apicurean flag, denounced Gambrach and pledged fealty to Arty Cool (himself a famous defecator in electorales past) of House Padipalia.

It was hardly a surprise that Abushola realigned for electoralis. When Gambrach triumphed over Gejoshaphat and ascended the Iron Throne of Boo Jar, both he (that is, Gambrach) and Shiwajun had candidates they favoured to lead the Nassholes. But Gah Rah and Abushola imbued with the spirits of the gods of kicksport – Meh See, Ko Tcha and Nal Do – dribbled and gazumped them most thoroughly. Lo, in the words of the ancient Jirrian philosopher Bah Heeahbon, it was a scurrilous subterfuge of a scandalous and mendacious kungaga.

Gambrach and Shiwajun did not take it lightly. They promptly deployed the Everly Failing at Convictions Council to find Abushola’s wrongdoings and they charged him to Conductivitis, that he might be found guilty and stripped of high office. Shiwajun’s confidence in Conductivitis astounded the people of the land, for even he was a veteran of Conductivitian jousting, where he had escaped unscathed. Like Shiwajun before him, Abushola also triumphed at Conductivitis; but he paid the ultimate price and was vanquished at electoralis.

When the second quadrannium began, Gambrach, Shiwajun and Shomolek (Headboy of House Apicuria) were keen that there would not be another gaou – for in the words of the ancient travelling troupe Magical Systems, “while the first gaou is excusable, the second gaou means you are a dunce!”

So they summoned the longstanding senateen, Ser Nah Wal, told him to kneel down and baptised him with a gourd of syconfancia. “Arise, O Warden!” Shomolek commanded. But Nah Wal was hesitant.

“You call me Warden, great Headboy, and if you say it then it must be so. But surely you know that Dan Jango, a longstanding Apicurian nasshole as I, also desires the Wardeny.”

“Leave the matter of Dan Jango with me,” said Shiwajun. “I know where he is currently hurting the most. He has a pimple on his forehead that I can pop for him.”

Thus it was that Ser Dan Jango, a notable friend and veritable guy of the bard Icy Duke of the City of Chalk Lit, was summoned into the presence of Shiwajun and Shomolek. There he was informed that Nah Wal and not he had been chosen to lead senatii into the new glorious age of rubberstampia.

Dan Jango was unsettled by the news and protested, saying, “But my lords, I beg thee to reconsider. I am as qualified as Nah Wal to lead senatii in perfunctoriness and I can wield the scepter of rubberstampia more fancifully than any in the land. My entire existence in senatii has been iconic rubberstampism!!!”

“Aye, we know this but remember that Abushola dribbled all of us in the past quadrannium, when it was first promised to Nah Wal. If you do Apicuria this favour, we shall summon Mar Goo the Unconfirmed and cause the Everly Failing at Convictions Council to fail once again on your account” answered Shiwajun.

“Ye wouldst do this for me?” asked Dan Jango in disbelief.

“A small price of 5 billion shekels forgotten between friends – good deal would you not say? Now say yes quickly, so I can return home to my baby girl” said Shomolek. And thus was it settled. Nah Wal was formally elected by his peers as Warden.

With the junior senateens, the favoured was also another longstanding nasshole named Jaja-Beer Miller. Jaja-Beer was a very loyal Apicurean from Ekonnos who eschewed all forms of comingling with Padipalians. He indulged in comingling of another sort but lo, that story is for a different chapter of the chronicles. The detractors tried to raise the banner of his professional misdemeanours in the land of Trumpetistan against him, but the Apicurean broom of Gambrach that maketh the iniquitous white and blocketh out all cries of protesting hate and sorrow availed much for him. Thus, did Jaja-Beer Miller become Junior Warden of the Nassholes.

With the principalities and powers of the Nassholes in place, King Gambrach was ready to wrestle the flesh and blood that made up the citizenry of the Kingdom with the nomination of the members of his council. According to the law of the land, Gambrach was required to appoint a councilor from each of the 36 Kingdoms, to serve him in Fecundia and preside over the mismanagement of the administratories of the kingdom – plebeian education, highway smoothening, image laundry, plundering the petrolatum that fueled the wealth of the kingdom, ensuring the infirmaries remained unfit to care for the ruling elite and the constabulary unfit to patrol a chicken coop – each one a task of herculean proportions.

In his first quadrannium, Gambrach did not name his councilors until Trentus Septembus and when he did, it was filled with such administrative luminaries as King Monoraillus Incompletus of Rivissinia – the Councillor for Travel, leading astrologer and philosopher Bull Shittu the Councillor for Telepathic and Futuristic Communication, Ah-Woodoo the Councillor for Local Rice and Hatred of Imported Food, Bongo Naya the Councillor for Writing Materials, King Flasholas of Ekonnos who served as Councillor for Semi-Illumination, King Gigex of Kee-Jah the Councilor for Slavery, and so many more.

When the list of nominees for councilorship in the second quadrannium passed from Caballee and Caballum – the Deux Cabales – to Shomolek and Shiwajun, Shomolek was so overwhelmed, he unclasped his girdle.

“Wow! This list is dynamite, Shiwajun. It is even more glorious than the previous quadrannium. Will this prospect of overachievement not deter senatii from approving them?” he asked.

Shiwajun answered, “Fear not, Ser Shomolek. This second quadrannium of Gambrach is the age of legislatum encaptivo.”

Thus was the list of councillors-in-waiting broadcast to the Social Medianites, the Papyrus Medianites and yea, unto the Digital Perusites. All across Jirriah, the people beheld it. And there was no gaddem chill, nary an atom of it, in all the land.

Once upon a time, in the ancient lands of Freeka Westte, there was a kingdom called Jirriah. Jirriah was stitched together at the seams of the rivers that split the kingdom into three with the mystical threads of Loogardine by a spooky one-eyed seamstress known as Flaw-Ra. The warlock who brought her the Loogardine threads asked her where she had learned to stitch multiple different fabrics together so deftly. “It was from the Empire School of Georgian Haute Couture”, she replied. And thus was the kingdom of Jirriah established.

These are the Chronicles of Jirriah, these Chronicles of Chill. They are the tales of the kingdom’s unending quest for Chill, because from the time of King Fearson to the time of King Bar Lay-Wah, to the first digital king of the kingdom (King eRunn-Si), to King Jack the Young Sparrow, to King Murd Tallah, to the first coming of King Shegolas of Owurutas, to King Shag Gar, to the first coming of King Gambrach the Austere, to King Gi Dah the Truncator, to King Nekan of the Single Buttock, to King Bar Char the Appletiser, to King Abdo Chorizo the Reformer, to the second coming of King Shegolas, to King Yaraz the Infirm, King Gejoshaphat the Lucky, right until the second coming of King Gambrach, the kingdom suffered severe unchill.

Behold, it was a multifaceted unchill, ranging from the decoupling from the Empire of George and Lizzy, to the 3-year battle of Frabiana, to the disappearance of the leguminous pyramids, to the rampaging of the Yetis of Gawd and the Haramites of Boko, there was no chill in the land. But the people yearned desperately for chill.

These chapters of the chronicles begin in the time of the second coming of King Gambrach, yea unto the first and second quadranniums of his reign. But to understand the reign of Gambrach, it is necessary to learn a little bit more about the Kingdom of Jirria. For, you see, Jirria comprised 36 kingdoms – or 37, if you counted the High Kingdom of Boo Jar wherefrom Gambrach reigned, occasionally in council with the 36 kings. The council of Gambrach and the 36 was known as Fecundia and it was in Fecundia that all the most important decisions of the greatest gravity in the Kingdom were taken – which carriageways and puddles to repair, which pseudo ironmonger would supply the kings’ winged chariots, which courtesans to bestow the favour of the King upon and other such grand matters. It was not known if or where the higher matters of State were discussed.

Fecundia was rich with the aroma of the Boo Jarian beverage, sycofancia. Sycofancia was brewed from barley, oats and the sweat and spittle of whoever was seated on the Iron Throne of Boo Jar. It was served in large measure at the meetings of Fecundia and caused the kings and councillors in attendance to burst into fits of inexplicable laughter whenever the King – in this tale, Gambrach – uttered any sentence longer than 7 words. Yea, did the people of Jirria always behold their leaders emerging from Fecundia in fits of intense cachinnation.

King Gambrach’s closest visible adviser was his Hand, Osinoshin, a lettered man of the laws and highly favoured of Shiwajun. Shiwajun was one of the most venerated kingmakers in Jirria and it was with his help that Gambrach had ended the reign of King Gejoshaphat in a manner hitherto unseen in Jirriah. Shiwajun himself had reigned in the kingdom of Ekonnos for two quadrannia and before that had sat amongst the senatii during the Age of Truncation under King Gi Dah.

The other advisers of Gambrach were his chief scribe Gar Bar, his sub-scribe FemCallamitus the Griot, his Counsellor for Subjects Who Had Seen the Light and Fled the Kingdom – Lady Bee Ree; and Moborius, his Chief Engravist. Sometimes, Gambrach was also publicly advised, to his chagrin, by his wife, Lady Yeeshah of the province of Za Oza Rheumm. Lady Yeeshah was particularly, principally and properly perplexed by the pestilence of the Deux Cabales, two mysterious persons of unknown and mysterious identities who she insisted daily pulled the strings of King Gambrach the Pinocchio, her husband. King Gambrach was also advised by Ser Bakky Arii, his head honcho, and his main man, Ser MyMann Dee.

Over the coin and treasures of the Kingdom, stored in the Iron Bank of Boo Jar, Gambrach had appointed Mefilius bin-Exporta as Warden. Mefilius was famous for his independent thinking and dispensation, which was next only to the cast iron tether with which the chambers of his medulla were joined to the war rooms of Bedrock, the castle from which Gambrach reigned.

As for the 36 kingdoms, they included the realms of Ekitilopia of King Jekfa, Imossopotamia of King Roe Chazz the Statuesque, Rivissinia of King Wee Kay, Ben Way of King Autumn, Dunamis of King El-Farquaad, Ko Tow of King Tambourine, Oyokolova of Ajimovich the Constituted and many many more.

Now you know them and now you will read [again] their chronicles. For in all of the kingdoms of Jirriah, yea unto the ends of the 37 kingdoms, there was nary a speculum of chill to be found! Behold, there was no gaddem chill in the land!

The Chronicles have been revealed unto man that he mayest learn from the passage of time, for time like an ever rolling circular stream bears all its sons to repeat themselves. Thus, as electoralis was deferred at the beginning and end of Gejoshaphat’s quadrannium, was it also deferred as Gambrach and Arty Cool contended for the Iron Throne of Boo Jar.

Yea, was there great unchill, even from the Lovengers, who surely would have proclaimed it the greatest deferment in the history of postponements under normal circumstances.

Wherefor Shomolek, Head of House Apicuria, remonstrated strongly with Ser Yar Curb, who had succeeded Jegatrix the Man of Chill, as head of the Necomongers, umpires of electoralis across the 37 kingdoms.

“What the gaddem heck dost thou believe thyself to be doing? Yea, even as Lateefus Kayodexicus demandeth, ‘what kind of job you doing’? Now I am forced to be away from the castle next week, when I had plans to be with my sweet baby girl. Let me ask ye, Ser Yar Curb, if it were thee, wouldst thou not prefer to be with my sweet baby girl than standing out in the sun? Lo, I am violently pissed off against thee!”

But Yar Curb invoked the spirit of Jegatrix and maintained his composure and answered Shomolek not. “People of the 37 Kingdoms, the Necomongers have suffered great sabotage and violent attacks, laying waste to our best laid plans. But fear ye not, I have conceived an ultramodern grand masterplan to right it all within seven days. Yea, like the ancient Greek prophet Craigus Davidus foresaw in his most famous tome ‘One Week’, I too shall go back to work on Monday, send out 40 ravens on Tuesday, sort out voting parchments by Wednesday and on Thursday and Friday, vote Saturday, chill on Sunday, Selah.”

Lo, the unchill was yet severe, for many had voyaged long distances to participate in electoralis, for the Necomongers were not possessed of sufficient sophistication to re-enlist the citizens whenever they relocated. Many had carefully arranged weddings and funerals to avoid the unchill of electoralis and now, even they were foiled. For the Kingdom was not possessed of sufficient sophistication for the citizens to vote in normalcy. And yea, it was in that day that the spirit of Exitus Canadius descended again most mightily amongst the people, tempting them with dreams of icicles and frosted breath.

Behold, as unchill swirled, was a cry heard from the Kingdom of Dunamis, where Lord El-Farquaad reigned. It was a cry from none other than Lord El-Farquaad himself. “Agony! Wailing! Gnashing of teeth! We stand in the cold blood of our three score and half dozen Fulannister brothers who have been murdered in Jurkan! Tis a tragedy!”

And yea, the unchill in the kingdom waxed stronger.

Lord El-Farquaad continued, “Now, I know that I have previously warned Tywinnically and Tyrionically that the life of a Fulannister is a loan and Fulannisters will always collect their debt. However, I beg of my Fulannister brethren this time to write it off as a non-performing loan. No need to collect, please dear.”

But Ser Din Kallus, a man of expertise in the law and Warden of the Kingdom’s Civicus Council had sent ravens to Jurkan to verify the Farquaadian claims and none of the Jurkanian meisters could verify the deaths. Wherefor he came unto the people, and the Social Medianites and the Twillistines to enquire, “Doth Lord El-Farquaad seek to foment and be starting something? Yea, have I spoken to the people of Jurkan and nary a person seeeth what the king claimeth.”

And yea did the unchill in the kingdom wax stronger.

Thus it was that the Twillistines beheld another unsettlement from Startuppitytomia, in the Technophilia region of Social Mediana. Technophilia was a gated community, where a group of people known as the Flounders had assembled to save the 37 kingdoms by means of the ancient art of technosis. The Flounders acquired wealth by wrestling angels from the realms of glory, as the biblical Jacob did, to bequeath them investment wealth seeds.

One such flounder named Neduski Marikov, who had joined Technophilia from faraway Wasrav, had cried out to the Social Medianites of his expulsion from Startuppitytomia by his heavenly investor.

“Behold, I departed from my princely estates in Wasrav to fix the image of thy kingdoms and I wrestled with my angel and he blessed me. And lo, I built things beyond anyone’s imagination using my special mastery of technosis. But because of my flowing hair, fair skin and alien accent, my angel and his posse flagged me on the Galactopol wanted register and I was locked up (they didn’t let me out) locked up (they didn’t let me out) locked up, wooooooooooooh! But now I’m out, I shall write it all in a tome and use the money to build an outreach centre known as the Neduski Marikov Centre for Kids Who Don’t Technosis Too Good.”

And there was no chill in Startuppitytomia as other Flounders and their builders rebutted the Marikovian account. Stannis Boyejius of Mandela and Utterbrave was the first to respond, saying “Tis a shame thou wert locked up (they didn’t let you out). Tis also a shame how thou frolicked away thine angel’s wealth, my guy!”

Yea, did Woyicus of the Righting Racks also refute with great gusto. “Dude, thou didst thy technosis with dualisation which ye didst not reveal to the angels and the heavenly host. Thy Galactopol penitentiarisation be on thy head!!!”

And all across the land, in Boo Jar, in Social Mediana, in Twillistia, in all the 37 kingdoms and yea, even in Startuppitytomia, there was no gaddem chill!!!

“Brothers in Magistrasis,” said Branko, “hate ye the player when tis the game ye ought to hate?”

“Oh really?” replied the High Primussy Council. “Verily, verily, we say unto thee, we are in receipt of a petition against thee from the quill of Kogba Lisa, of the iuris and we hereby give thee seven days to respond. Now depart from us!”

“Slow your roll, ol’boy!” they cautioned. “Behold, thou art also given seven days to respond to the petition raised against thee! Now ye also begone!”

Lo, even as the High Primussy Council moved to restore the sanctity of the Magistracy, ravens were sent from the emissaries of Trumpstantinople, Jandinia and The Yuros to Gambrach saying, “Dude, thou thinkest thyself to be slick, messing with the Magistracy on the eve of Electoralis. Behold, as the ancient saying of the 37 kingdoms goes, ‘dat kain ting get as e be, bruh!’ Desist from this unchill, with true integrity, lest we be forced to demonstrate true integrity to thee.”

Caballee and Caballum were incensed and said to Gar Bar, “Go unto the emissaries and tell them that they need to respeck our authoritahhh!”

Yea did Gar Bar go unto Social Mediana, declaring unto the foreign emissaries, “We fear ye not. I declare unto thee, as did Chemical Allee of Messopotamia, that we have armies and we have the nuclear weapon of King Gambrach’s powerful charm. Ye willst not know what hitteth thee, whah lar hee!”

Wherefore the Trumpetistanis and the Yourozees said unto the Jandinians, “Activate the Gambrachian hocus pocus remote controlcus that ye implanted in him during his convalescence in thy territory.” Yea, was it activated by the Janidinians and thus did Gambrach begin to meskafumble, even worse than when the affliction of WhyWereWhereWeWhahWhereWeWe came upon Osinoshin.

Behold, Gambrach recogniseth not his Apircurean brothers, nor recalled the offices for which they vied and on occasion announced them as vying for the Iron Throne of Boo Jar. It was a malarkey of confoundium and wrought severe unchill upon the land. But Caballee and Caballum ensured that he pressed on.

And in the Kingdom of Gideria, King-in-waiting Shangolulu unlocked the Ubiquity stone. Giderians saw him on banners in the township, on scrolls in the citadels, lying in wait for them in the latrines, knocking on their eyelids in their sleep, delivering their young at the midwifery, milking their cows on the farms, yea one Giderian swore Shangolulu nearly accompanied him into the other room!

Lo, they saw him, heard him, tasted him, smelt him, felt him all over their skin and even felt him squeezing their medulla oblongatas. Not a sensory organ existed that Shangolulu did not invade virally.

Wherefore the Giderian assembly asked themselves “Of what use is Ambsalom to us in the glorious age of Shangolulu? Canst we not draw early curtains on the quadrannium of Ambasolum and hasten the glorious age of Shangolulu?”

But their Warden cautioned them, “Tis not a journey on which we can embark unless Shiwajun prohibiteth it not. Seek ye first the face of Shiwajun and the rest may be added.”

Lo, did a delegation go unto Shiwajun in his castle.

“Hail, Shiwajun! Fearless leader, first of his name, scion of Iragbijishire, annointer of Shangolulu. We pray for thy blessing to expunge Ambsalom the Forgotten.”

Shiwajun said nought but winked and shook his head.

“Thou sayest we can expunge him?”

Shiwajun winked again, shaking his head and saying, “I say not that I am not saying that thou canst not not expunge Ambsalom the Forgotten, shey’get?”

The assembly men were confused. “Wise Shiwajun, shall we expunge him then?”

Shiwajun winked again and shook his head. “I have said all that needs to be said.”

Yea, did the assembly men rise against Ambsalom, moving to topple him from the throne. The people saw it and there was no gaddem chill.

Then did Shiwajun rise most mightily to proclaim not just to their hearing but all across the land, “Touch not my formerly anointed and do my Forgotten no harm! Ambsalom shall not be expunged.”

The people heard it and there was no gaddem chill.

And then, in the kingdom of the Crescent Lakes, King Ben Yade announced a brand new coinage for the kingdom. “Crescent Lakeians, behold thy new coinage! Tis a coinage even more glorious than my last hallucination. Yea, have I called it ‘The Glorious Coinage of Occultic Manifestations of Voodoo Denseness!!!”

Lo, in all the gaddem land, yea in every gaddem nook and cranny, was nary a gaddem chill left to be seen!

As electoralis drew nigh, the spirit of unchill descended most mightily upon the land, sweeping with violence and blowing however it gaddem felt.

Lo, did it blow unto the castle of Dinobetes Mellitus, where the hosts of the constabulary encamped around his dwelling in besiegement. And none could enter or depart Castle Mellitus for it was cut off from the rest of civilisation.

Dinobetes climbed up into the ramparts and saw the legions of the constabulary in waylayment. And he cried out unto them, “Why campest ye around my castle. Know ye not of my extreme closeness to Abushola the Warden of Senatii?”

“I command thee to leave the vicinity of my castle forthwith!!! Ye shouldst know that I am not one to be messed with!”

“We shall go nowhere! And if thou likest it not, call the Constabulary. Ooops! We are already here! Muahahahahaha!!!”

Dinobetes tried to send a pigeon to Abushola but it was promptly shot out of the sky. He sighed, knowing the game was up.

“Lower the drawbridge,” he commanded his manservant. Then he said a quick prayer to Syncope, the god of elite sanctimony. “O Syncope, I am about to be delivered unto the Constabulary and I need your help. Descend upon me and afflict me with thy most holy malady.”

Behold, as Dinobetes yielded himself, Syncope answered his prayer and struck him most violently with incontinence and unconsciousness. All of Twilistia beheld it and there was no chill.

In Bedrock, the spinning quills of Gambrach were concerned that he was not stumping. “Sire, Sai You, Sai Me, Sai it together naturally. Tis known to all men that thou wouldst vanquish Arty Cool without even trying but for the sake of appearances…”

Thus it was that Gambrach ventured to the land of Bom Akwaaba – the land of King Dom Inik – to stump. “Bom Ak are you with me?” Gambrach asked the Akwaabians. “Oh yeah, we’re voting Gambs, we ain’t goin’ nowhere!” came the refrain. “I promise the stump, the whole stump, nothing but the stump!” Gambrach replied.

Yea, it was a triumphant outing. But Gambrach returned to Bedrock in Boo Jar extremely fatigued. The Quills eagerly planned another stumpage but news suddenly came to the people that Lady Zar Kar of the Electoralis Umpirage was a kinswoman of Gambrach.

Wherefore Gar Bar went unto the people, with Lay Si in his shadow, to declare “Lady Zar Kar is a most genteel lady of the highest integrity and competence, who is only coincidentally, marginally and non-consanguinally related by a marriage of their relatives. Heed not the word of the Padipalians.”

But Gambrach had had enough and summoned Shiwajun. “Ser Shiwajun, wilt thou stump on my behalf with Osinoshin as thou didst in the electoralis of Gejoshaphat. I canst withstand this shit no more.”

“It would be my pleyyor, Your Majesty” answered Shiwajun.

“Great! Give them Wahala Morghulis in this Season 8,” said Gambrach, holding up 4 fingers on each hand.

And the people heard that Gambrach had ceded stumping to Shiwajun and there was no chill, but the Lovengers threw the GoT Season 8 sign wherever they found themselves. Yea, even Lady Yeeshah, who had complained of Caballee and Caballum.

Lo, it was at that time that Rain o’Mockery, the Irishman of uncertain function in the council of Gejoshaphat shewed the people a tapestry of Rotamachus, depicting Gambrach leading the country into tears and war and famine and gnashing of teeth.

Behold, all saw it and there was no chill. Lay Si, the Quill of Gambrach in Social Mediana, was particularly incensed. “This is a Wendellian lie! A Simlinous deception! This is not a tapestry from this electoralis but from the last.”

o’Mockery laughed in glee. “Thou sayest twas Rotamachus whilst he stabbed Gejosphat in the back, but behold the tapestry in much greater length!!!”

And thus it was that another tapestry of Rotamachus was unveiled, depicting Rotamachus himself predicting certain doom for the Kingdom and the unfeelingness of Gambrach.

Lay Si took up a magnifying glass to examine the stitches. “Aha!” he cried, “the stitches of this tapestry have been spliced and it rejoined in different places. It is a tapestry of falsehood!”

“Oh? No longer tapestry from the time of Gejoshaphat?” the Social Medianites asked, but there was no answer.

Rain o’Mockery, the Irish, Wendellian, Simlinous, antagonist revealed to the Twilistians, the Social Medianites and the Digital Perusites that he had even more tapestry, which could very well rip the curtain of the inner chamber of the Apicurean House.

And there was no speck, no atom, no figment, no gaddem modicum of chill in the land!!!

All over the land, in all the kingdoms, there was unchill and there was anticipation of precipitation of unchill. Twas the nature of the beast of electoralis, wild and perverse, and none couldest tame it.

In Gideria, Shangolulu fought to wrest himself of the title of stooge of Shiwajun but the people would have it not. “No one emergest from nowhere to become King whilst another sitteth on the throne unless he is a puppet of Shiwajun” it was frequently said to him. One morning, on Charr Knells, he finally had enough and declared unto the people, “Be ye not of blockered brains. I have always been somewhere as ye are somewhere now. Therefore nobody cometh from nowhere for everybody is someone from somewhere, gaddemmit!!!”

There was a rumbling of unchill.

And thus it was that Gambrach mounted his winged chariot once more and made for the land of Polskinia for a summit of the rulers of the earth on climatic changes. Gambrach was eager to participate, for he was keen to change the climate of chill within his own kingdom.

As was customary, the spirit of silence and reticence which so severely incapacitated him within his domain was instantly confounded by the sanity abroad and refused to descend from the winged chariot with Gambrach.

With his faculties of speech returned, Gambrach was eager to get some pressing matters off his chest, most particular of which pertained to the whispers right down from the Lords and Nobles to the plebs, about the authenticity of his existential condition and the foreign province of Sous Darne.

“Behold, I make haste to declare unto ye all in Polskania, before the demon Mutatis Mutandis returneth and maketh me mute again, that the whispers of my having perished and undergone asexual recreation and enclonology by the meisters in the Kingdom of Sah Oud are false. The me that thou beholdest here today is the version that proceedeth from the womb of his mother, fear not. If another me existeth and hath supplanteth me, in the words of my predecessor Gejoshaphat, the Kingdom of Trumpstantinople wouldst know.”

Yea and gaddem, the unchill that followed was as the flood of Noah, deluging the earth with ridicule and opprobriumunto Gambrach and his Kingdom.

Lo, as Lady Yeeshah, the wife of Gambrach beheld it in Bedrock, she couldst contain her own angst no longer, and cried out unto the people, “Save my husband thy king from the strings of the Deux Cabales which pulleth him whither and whence they pleaseth. I beg of thee! He behaveth so weirdly that I recognise him no longer!”

And her cry was heard all the way in Polskinia, wherefore the people came unto Gambrach asking, “art thou truly the Gambrach of the womb or the Gambrach made to deceive the tomb? For thy own wife sayeth she recogniseth thee not.”

But Gambrach had re-ascended his winged chariot where Mutatis Mutandis had lain in wait to enmute him again. And he was silent.

“Oh Sheet!” cried Sagacious, Gambrach’s counsellor for Kwarapshan, in frustration. “How shall Gambrach contend with Arty Cool in debatum if we canst not get Mutatis to depart from him in the Kingdom. Not that he hath much to say, but still…”

“Canst we not proclaim in his name that debatum be staged in Jandinia, where King Gambrach is usually at his most outspoken?” volunteered Lady Bee Ree, Gambrach’s counsellor for Subjects Who Had Seen the Light and Fled the Kingdom.

“No,” said a voice from within. It was Caballee, half of the Deux Cabales that had been stringing Gambrach along. “We shall send Oshinoshin to do the Too Wrenchy of debatum in Gambrach’s stead.”

The other half of the Deux Cabales, Caballum, was not convinced and said, “But wouldst we not cause a torrent of unchill by doing so? The people would demand the King, for it is Rex Debatum, not Debatum of Hands. Oshinoshin shouldst only contend with Wan Kenobi.”

The scribes waited patiently for Caballee and Caballum to reach a consensus.

“We have Lovengers aplenty, Caballum. If Sagacious declareth that it breacheth not the law of the land for a Hand to contend for the King in Rex Debatum, the Lovengers will unthinkingly agree. It is their way!”

Caballum agreed with Caballee and Sagacious made the declaration. And lo, there was unchill but it was a fairly subdued one. “Seest thou what I meaneth?” asked Caballee triumphantly. But they quickly saw that the reason for the relative calm was that the Twilistines and Social Medianites had gathered at the temple of Gossipotamia, the goddess of Cho Cho Cho and Shobolation. High Priestess Melinda TheSecond had summoned the people for a ministration and a time of worship.

Caballee and Caballum joined the people in the temple and listened to Melinda as she began to speak.

“Brethren, but sisthren especially, for I am a sister like thee, I come before thee today to present my son unto thee. He is heir to my kingdom and will inherit the sacrifices you bring to the temple of our goddess daily. I am aware that most of ye think his birth to be a virgin birth, for I am sublime and holy in my ways and have despised the motherhood of singularity but yea, shit happeneth. Tis life.

“For I came upon a man named Jorrow Me, as prophesied in the music of the prophetess See Mee. I wanted Jorrow baby to love me and he did for a time. Yea, I gave him green lightings, told him take my numbers and call me later for I wanted to be his lover. Behold, I embarked on long pilgrimages to visit him in Shangotedonia to prepare him for the life of a High Priestess’s consort. We just talked and held hands. Yet somehow, I fell into the enwombment of my son. Look at him so precious and beautiful. Lauratidyn, hold thy nephew up for all to see.

“And so, I conclude this presentation with these final words. Jorrow Me ditched me but he enriched me first. I thank Gossipotamia, our goddess for her divine direction always and you hoes out there need to stop hating and be like me, so that ye canst all have thy motherhood of singularity in luxury and be conveyed about in a chariot like mine – made of the finest Valryian steel and costing of a hundred million shekels, bitches! The sermon is ended.”

And it came to pass, in the 7th month of the third year of the first quadrannium of Gambrach, that Yar Courb the Head Umpire for electoralis declared the contest open. Lo did all contenders for the Iron Throne and the thrones of the thirty-six kingdoms in the land.

Arty Cool brandished parchment containing his plans for the kingdom, trying to convinced the people to make him King. Very careful was he to avoid stumbling over arithmetic like Gambrach did when he broke 100% into 97% and 5%. Arty Cool kept everything 100, speaking only in blocks of 100%. He was, as they say, “all in” and promised all in cluesion if he were to be chosen as King.

In the Kingdom of Gideria, the disembowelment of Ambsalom was complete, as twas often said, “sheet nor dey him yansh again”. For Shangolulu, though yet to be formally be emballoted let alone elected king, marched about the kingdom with unmitigated swagger and infinite bravado. Yea, was he accepted by the nobles of the kingdom, elevated even above Ambsalom at their convivialities and soirees, for he bore the indelible mark of Shiwajun.

Wherefore Ambsalom looked upon the Giderians in muted anger and said to himself, “it falleth to him who receiveth the glory and honour of the throne to exercise the power attached to it. Lo, I shall log out of the Kingship app and delete my user profile and card details.”

Thus it was that congestion befell the Giderians in their work, in their play and even in their sleep. And there was no chill with them.

In Bedrock, Gambrach summoned his advisers, asking them how he might go about the business of electoralis. “Is there chill in Social Mediana?” Gambrach asked Bashally and Lay Si. “Canst I go unto them as I did in the last quadrannium.”

“Sire, there is no gaddem chill there. They accuse your majesty of launching the projects of Gejoshaphat and remind us when we proclaim that the Padipalians did nothing for 4 quadrannia that Rotamachus of the unfinished bridge, King El-Farquaad of Dunamis, Woo Doo thy counsellor for subsistence farming and many others that surround thee used to be Padipalians.”

“Okay, but wherefor art the Burgundy Medianites by whom I was zarafied at the electoralis past?” enquired Gambrach. “Chubacca and Deb Solo? Do they no longer stand with us?”

“Sire, ’tis said they are now with Morgallus.”

Tired, Gambrach asked for mead to be brought to him in his goblet of Nerr Potty. The gourd was the fruit of one of his conquests as a Man of Gunn, against the marauding Meyter Sheenes. He had pursued them beyond the borders of the kingdom, into their cave, vanquishing them most mightily. He let his men plunder the cave and kept for himself the most spartan, least ostentatious item of the lot – a simple wooden goblet.

Whenever he drank from the goblet, he received a clear and urgent urge to appoint someone very close to him to something quite important. It was one of these close associates that told Gambrach the ancient legend of the goblet of Nerr Potty. The goblet of Nerr Potty also had the power to relieve the discomfort of people from Crow Knee’s disease if the drinker spoke a blessing upon them. Many of the courtiers eagerly awaited the nights when Gambrach drank from his goblet, often pretending to suffer Crow Kneeism to be granted an audience with the king.

Yea, as Gambrach drank, he looked upon his son-in-law, June Ides, and put him in charge of the kingdom’s borders. Then he looked upon FemCallamitus and asked, “Still no ideas on how we might proceed on electoralis? Thou must improve dramatically, if thou wouldest take thy spokesmanship for me to the next level.”

Lo, FemCallamitus had a moment of lightbulbing and declared, “Oh my gracious, most blessed king. Let it be unto us as thou hast said! We shall tell the people that thou and only thou canst take them unto the next level.”

“Next level of what?” asked Gambrach, confused.

“Sire, it mattereth not. For whether it be forward or backward, upward or downward, it shall be with thee. Therefore it is next.”

Gambrach played with the thought and decided he liked it.

“I like it!” he declared, taking another sip. “Let us do it! We shall kick it off with a great banquet and launch. Summon all the Apicurean nobles, the influenzas from Social Mediana, the generals from the garrisons…”

Yea did Gar Bar remember the ancient mind trick of the Jedi and said unto the people, “Ye did not see the generals. They came but they left. For they knew not that the gathering was unto electoralis. But really, ye did not see them.”

“The false is very strong with this one,” remarked the Social Medianites and the Digital Perusites. Of course, they believed Gar Bar not. And in all of the land, not a gaddem flake of chill was left.

Thus it was, that the legend of Macashma Gandy grew. He was Macashma, the Great Sold. And again and again, did the visions of Jafar d’Aladdin come unto the people, shewing Gandy basking in Trumpetistani Shekels like the ancient quacker Duckie McScrooge. But the people of Canodoni were not troubled, for they also believed the revelation of the Great Sold – ‘when loot is plundered in Trumpetistani coin, it is no longer Her Ram.”

Daily would is scribe, Dar Wheezus, come into the streets of Social Mediana proclaiming the greatness of the Macasha. Yea, did he unlook all that was said of Gandy.

Meanwhile, Arty Cool had announced the choice of Petrus Wan Kenobi as his Hand. Wan Kenobi had served as King in Nambria for two quadrannia, before he was succeeded by King Dynamo Dick, who loved to proclaim the strength of his delivery, of Kingship, that is.

Wan Kenobi had also superintended Bankus Fidelis for several years. “Behold my Hand, in whom I am well pleased,” proclaimed Arty Cool, as they boarded his winged chariot and headed for the Arabian Kingdom of Doo Ba-Yee. Yea, were the Apicureans much triggered.

“Is this the King, ye would foist on us, Padipalians?” they asked. “A king who wouldest retreat to foreign Kingdoms? A king who preferreth the lavish rooms of abroadian chalets? A king who wouldest speak to thee from abroa… oh, right, never mind.” It was a flash triggering that subsided as quickly as it materialised, and what it was that changed their disposition remains a mystery to this very day.

Lo, another whirlwind descended on the Apicureans as Shomolek, the Head of House Apicurea, as the Deliverance Squad Squadron interrupted his afternoon tea with his wife, Babygirlita. “Thou must come with us, Ser Shomolek!” they demanded.

“But I am having afternoon tea with Babygirlita.”

“That mayest be, but even our former Commander had to come with us when we demanded it.”

“That mayest be, but I am Head of thy King Gambrach’s House Apicurea. My Ye is different to his Ye, dudes.”

“Well, tis the Apicurean kings who have demanded thy deliverance. They charge thee with receiving Gandonic lubrications and perverting electoralis. Thou must answer and thou must remove thyself from headship. Shomolek was about to protest further but he was bundled into their Deliverance Chariot and whisked away.

King Roe Chazz of Imolek was one of the disgruntled Apicurean Kings. Having served Apicurea and the Imolekites faithfully for two quadrannia with statues and the discovery of acidic rain, he felt entitled to install Inlaw Luther Roach and Toaster Luther Roach, as king and hand after his reign had come to an end. True, they were his son-in-law and favoured suitor of his daughters, respectively, but the statues, dammit!

Seeing Shomolek bundled away by the Deliverancers, Roe Chazz signalled to his honcho, Giringori, that it was time. “Time for what?” asked Toaster Luther Roach.

Wherefore Giringori blew his trumpet and gathered Imolekites from the four corners of the Kingdom into Way-Ree, its capital. “Greatest Imolekites! Articulate Imolekites!”

“Great Imolekites, ye know we have a great king! Sing with me a song as we usher ourselves into his presence. We are gathering together unto him (unto Roe Chazz), we are gathering together unto him (unto Roe Chazz), unto Chazz shall the gathering of his people be, we are gathering together unto him.”

The Social Medianites and the digital Perusites saw it and were aghast. But the best was yet to come.

“Great Imolekites,” continued Giringori, “we bless the name of our King. Repeat after me this afternoon. He is our saviour…”

“SAVIOUR!!!” the Imolekites chanted.

“…he can move the mountains…”

“MOUNTAINS!!!”

“…Roe Chazz is mighty to save…”

“MIGHTY!!!”

“He wants to give each of you a statue.”

“STATUE!!!”

“This is why we must support InLaw Luther Roach, to accede to the throne after King Roe Chazz.”

“SHABALISTIKKKKK!!!”

The Imolekites were cuppified, for behold, they were charged up.

Just then, news came to the people that Lar Yi, Gambrach’s councillor for propaganda, was speaking about the continued remand of the cleric Zacchaeus El-Zak, in spite of the repeated order of the Magistratum that he be freed.

“Look, tis the truth I speak,” began Lar Yi to a room full of raised eyebrows, “tis not exactly like the King flouteth the rulings of the judiciary, not quite. For he is a good and integritous King. So much so that he spareth no expense in fattening up Zacchaeus in the royal dungeons. Behold, tis with three and a half million shekels with which he is fed monthly! Swearrghad, mehn!”

That was it. The people had had enough. It was not only within the Imolekites that there was a frenzy. In all of the Kingdom, there was not a gaddem speck of chill left!

Thus it was that the sun rose and then it set on the second and final quadrennium of Yode, son of Falasham in the kingdom of Ekitilopia. And then it rose again on the second quadrennium of Jefka, who interrupted Yode’s reign and whose reign in turn Yode interrupted, leading the people to call Ekitilopia a kingdom of hokey pokey.

Yode had sought to bid farewell to the Ekitilopians in grand style, declaring a banquet for the nobles of the kingdom. Behold, they unlooked it completely, for it was written – ‘only a ride-or-die feasteth at a king’s last supper’; and twas well-known that any who feasted with a king for whom the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission lay in wait, would be swept away in the flood of their scandalous incompetence. So Yode feasted alone.

And yea, as the sun set on his reign, Yode felt himself grow weaker as the invincibility cloak of immunity departed from him. Yode was a Dr but it felt strange (bad dumm tss! Behold a joke of the Chronicler!). No longer wielding the Immunity Stone and knowing a showdown with the Everly Failings was nigh, Yode knew he had to be possessed of the Banter Stone.

Wherefore he journeyed into the Vale of the Unnabrawss in the region of Haute Iwaykar and had the finest threadsmen stitch a mystic incantation onto his vest. Putting on the vestment, Yode rode for 2 nights and 2 days to Boo Jar, finally arriving at the Magoorhic gates of the Everly Failing at Convictions Commission. He stripped himself of his kingly armour and brandished the vestment, which had the ancient words emblazoned across it – “THE EVERLIES AINT SHIT!”

The Banter Stone was very powerful. They had got him, but yea had he also got them.

In Oyossopotamia, Shittinski was in a sulphuric panic. His dream of succeeding Jimobite the Constituted was evaporating before his eyes, as if Thanos himself had snapped his fingers at it. The prefects of House Apicuria had ruled that Shittinski could not contend at electoralis for, like Lady Kemshun, he was also devoid of the Certificato de Nyansch.

“Prefects, Apicureans, the reason I am devoid of the certificato is because I embarked on a quest greater even than the Nyansch! Where others went unto the Nyansch, I went into the Bombastic Oyossopotamic Octagonal Body of State, serving as a councilman. Twas a greater service even than the Nyansch! It should count for me, not against me!” Shittinski protested.

“But thou art versed in the law, art thou not? Tis the law that every man or woman emerging from the citadels must first serve the fatherland in Nyansch. And thou has not. Ergo…”

“Don’t tell me ergo!!!” shouted Shittinski, waving his gloved hand frantically. “Ergo what???” Wherefore Shittinski sued House Apicuria for disqualifying him and the Nyasnch Commission for not conscripting him by force when he ignored the summons.

Yea, was it lit across the land. But the litness was about to become fire. For in the ancient city of Canodonia, ruled King Gandy the White. He was known as Gandy the White for he was always dressed in a hat and flowing white robes. Many wondered what was underneath the robes and twas whispered that he had more than 2 arms and had to conceal them, lest he be thought a fantastic beast.

Lo, the legend of his extra arms was strongly believed by the Canodonians, apparently, because of his prolific work rate. All over the kingdom, next to nothingses, were signposts which read ‘Gandy’s Work’. There was a hut in the middle of the forest, with the sign ‘Gandy’s Work’. There was a latrine in the marketplace tagged ‘Gandy’s Work’. Yea, there was a mountain in the hills thought to be Gandy’s work. In short, Gandy was a workaholic. And whenever the Candonians saw him in public, they would scream ‘Hanky! Hanky! Hanky!’ for ‘hanky’ was the ancient Canodoni word for work. But they were all about to be shocked to their bones.

One day, a man named Jafar d’Aladdin came into Twilistia and Social Mediana declaring to the people, “Bring ye out your magic calabashes, for I have something to shew thee! Tis a vision of Gandy the White. But tis no mere vision, when what ye see is truth!”

Thus were all the magic calabashes brought out and after an advertisement from Buy Thy Chariots dot Com, the vision began. Behold, a man bearing an uncanny identical resemblance to King Gandy was sat in a room that bore an uncanny identical resemblance to the King’s Courts in Canodonia and behind him was a flag bearing an uncanny identical resemblance to the sigil of the kingdom of Canodonia.

But it could not be King Gandy, for this fellow was bald and wore no hat. But then a voice said unto the man, “if thou wouldest receive it, thou must receive it and conceal it in a hurry, your majesty.” So, it was Gandy. Or was it?

“But…” said the Gandy-esque fellow, “I am a religious man. Will taking this from thee not be Her Ram?”

“Not if thou standest up to collect it, Majesty. And especially not if it is Trumpetistani Shekels. Then, it is Her Lal, not Her Ram.”

“Thou art sure?” asked Gandy. It really did seem to be Gandy at this point.

“Yes! Now stand up and receive before Dar Wheezus thy scribe returneth and sees.”

The king arose, as he had been commanded and stretched out his hands. And behold, five bags of Trumpetistani shekels were handed over to him. Quickly he raised his robes, concealed the bags under and sat down again.

The legend was false. He did not have two extra arms for his Hanky. The Social Medianites saw it and there was not a single gaddem chill left in the Kingdom.

“Stop it! Cease and desist!” a voice cried. “It is a doctoring of cyclonic proportions. Tis not my king thou beholdest!” It was Dar Wheezus, defending Gandy.

But chill had departed and unchill returned. And from that day Gandy was no longer known as Gandy the White. He was thenceforth known as MaCashma Gandy, the Great Sold.